


Halfworld Reckoning 89

by EmilliaGryphon



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, gotg
Genre: Backstory, Escape, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Team as Family, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:33:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilliaGryphon/pseuds/EmilliaGryphon
Summary: Rocket escaped Halfworld once. Never in his wildest night terrors could he ever fathom being taken back.





	1. Prologue

“Most mothers are instinctive philosophers.” —Harriet Beecher Stowe

 

Halfworld: 8th Quadrant Section 9

“It’s about time these damn rajoon’s…”

“Raccoons. Procyon lotor.”

“Whatever. About damn time these raccoon’s produce viable subjects.” Through the silver film of moonlight the odd creatures walked, guns out and ready. They ignored the hissing, scratching and mewling of the animals already in their cages. 

“I found another bunch under here!” Shouted one odd creature in its mask, others followed. The raccoon’s hackles went up. Her three babies tucked in close to her as she stared down the green light that the odd creatures held, illuminating her den. She had had experience with predators before. This was her fourth clutch of pups, but it was the first time they had all lived past the new moon. There four of them each with their unique scent. Two females and a male. The male was the smallest and was not yet weaned. She loved them all though she did not know that the word was love. Her purpose was to protect them, especially the tiny male. So fragile and small. She had to keep them safe.She bared her teeth as one strange appendage reached out. Her babies squealed, she swiped, sharp claws tearing into a bizarre texture that was rough and worn. The creatures smelled like something she could not name and whatever fur they were covered in did not break as she swiped again. Her babies crowded her, squeaking. Intruders. Must protect. 

“Hey! Varmint!” One shouted through its mask. The appendage retracted and she turned to her babies, four, all accounted for. She nudged them behind her and they climbed on top of each other to obey. Safety. Safety behind me. Protect. 

“Come here!” Something grabbed at her, she snapped her jaws. Heart racing. Nothing to grab on to, she was lifted from her hovel, the babies, they screamed. She jerked, head rolling to try and see them. One was being taken away by another creature like the one that held her. The remaining two somehow still clung to her fur. One on her back, the other to her belly. Must protect! “Separate them will you” She bit once more at the hand that held her by the throat, her small paws trying to scratch. The baby on her back squeaked frantically, it’s tiny claws quickly let go. No! She squirmed, maternal furry focused. Must protect babies. Only one left. Another one of the animals came forward, but her vision blurred, the smell of her babies was drifting away from her. No, no no! The last baby was torn from her. A sudden coldness where it’s warmth had been. 

“We taking the mature female?”

“No just the offspring.”  


She watched her baby, it shrieked and hissed and whimpered, it’s little body wriggling, paws reaching out to get back to her. She strained but the smelly creature held her in a vice grip. Another appendage held something, a weirdly shaped log? It made a click noise. Babies, must get to babies. The log was pointed at her, between the eyes. Beyond it, in the shadows her last baby being walked off. Must protect….must get to—

“Finally!” The man exclaimed, dropping the dead raccoon to the floor. “They didn’t tell us how scrappy they were!” 

“Yeah well, we got the off spring that’s all that matters. How many of the P. lotor’s do we have?” 

“12 total.” The other scientist nodded, holding the last and smallest of the raccoon pups at arm’s length and adjusted her mini-brand, pulling it from her belt. She pressed the brand to the raccoon pup’s miniature left ear and winced at it keened in hot pain, the flesh burning, fur smoking. She released it after a second, otherwise it would kill the tiny animal. Bubbled, white flesh now emerged:

89P13


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you done with love so they can't hurt you tomorrow?  
You don't wanna keep on swimming in the ocean you've cried  
But I won't let you drown, I'll pull you back to the shallow.”  
-Done with Love, Zed 

Present Day: Ykrat 87878970. 32432

“You told me you escaped from a mad scientist lab!” Peter Quill shouted over the gunshots,  
“not a Guantanamo Bay!” 

“What can I say?” Groot heard Rocket scream from his shoulders, “I’m flarking special!” Another round of gunshots and curses punctuated his best friend’s remark as three more black and purple things sped towards them. Peter called them drones. Hearing them zoom closer Groot grew a long, barbed vine and without looking behind him, swung, giving a satisfied grin as he heard the explosion. 

“Why would he want to escape from a bay?” Drax wondered, deftly picking up his knife from the body of a masked human. Where pity would have been, Groot felt none. No pity for those who had hurt Rocket so. He watched Peter roll his eyes before ducking behind a boulder and shooting. He missed two but one craft faltered in the air. Rocket’s guns took care of the rest. 

“…and you didn’t think…” Gamora cursed, spinning and slicing through two more humans with her sword before joining Peter crouched under the large stone, “….to tell us they might come looking for you?” Rocket scrambled down Groot’s torso quickly, but not quick enough that Groot couldn’t feel the tension in his friend’s little body. Groot shoved Rocket into Gamora and Quill as another round of fire peppered against his bark. It burned, but it did not bleed sap, he grimaced,

“I am Groot!” Shooting out his left arm he stabbed through the feeble steel, thrashing the drone into two more and watching them crash. Rounding infront of his friend’s Groot grew out his vines, each long arm attached to the boulder. Drax ducked, into the makeshift shelter just in time before Groot’s branches wrapped around the stone. 

“I did tell yah, yah morons!” Rocket loaded his gun, squished between Peter and Gamora Groot had to resist the urge not to laugh. 

“You told us you didn’t ask to get made,” Drax reminded him. Rocket’s eyes narrowed but the flora colossus saw the shimmer of hurt and embarrassment streak across his face for a moment.

“It’s called deductive reasoning numb-nuts! I also said I’d broken out of 22 prisons, so ergo you can deduct that I escaped from the place they made me,” he cursed fiddling with his gun, “ergo they probably would come after me sooner or later!” Groot winced, hot bullets hitting against his back though none struck his core, the thorns and briars grew too thick. 

“I do not understand,” Drax’s brow furrowed. “I do not have nuts. How could nuts be numb even if I did have them. Nuts are food.”

“It’s a metaphor dude!” Peter’s sap pulsed through the veins in his neck as he screamed. Groot looked to his friend. 

“I am Groot?”

“I’m working on it!” Rocket stressed through gritted teeth.

“I am…” Groot’s vision flashed, white metallic agony skewered through his back. 

“Groot!” Gamora’s eyes widened as Groot felt himself being pulled back, branches snapping destroying the protective shelter he’d created. 

“Subject 89P13 and companions, lower your weapons.” Groot heaved forward pulling on whatever held him. His eyes pinched shut as another flashing rod of pain rammed through his side.  
In one sweep he was wrenched back, and looked around at the strange humans and their strange ships. Rocket’s gun aimed just above where Groot now knelt, his knees buckling against the hot misery. 

“Surrender your weapon, get down on your knees.” Came an omnipresent order, the voices sounded to Groot like it was made of metal and bad things. Sick things. It sounded like rot. 

“Let our dumb tree go!” Drax thundered, rushing at a human man with both knives out. Groot tried to suppress a scream as the pain now came through his chest. A white rod, like a spear pultruded through him. 

“I am Groot!”

“Drax!” Gamora frantically shouted, “stop!” Drax looked confused but halted where he stood. 

“Come any closer and we’ll shatter this….this…thing.” Groot watched Rocket’s hair go up, he hefted his gun on his shoulder. The flora colossus, tried to grow his arms out, but the same strange white rods stuck through them and he watched as his long limbs, normally lush green and soil brown now looked black and charred. They did not grow. 

“You flarking touch him…!” Rocket cursed, Peter, Gamora and Drax starred helpless. 

“Put your weapon down. Come with us quietly and we’ll let him go.” Groot struggled, every leaf and twig within him screaming. The hot rod radiated heat like a burning sun, even as he made to lift his arm it was as though a fire was ravaging him. But one look at Rocket’s terrified face and Groot swallowed. Long before meeting the rest of them, in some divvy bar on Erkeet, Rocket-wasted off two much Asguardian Whisky had told Groot some hint of what had been done to him on Halfworld. After years as partners Groot learned the rest nightmare by nightmare. Rocket escaped Halfworld once, never in his wildest night terrors could he ever fathom being brought back. 

“I am Groot!” 

“Shut up!” Rocket snapped, gun still pointed at the strange creatures. There was a bang, and Groot braced himself for the pain. It came. A wail escaped him though he tried to use every power within him to suppress it. 

“Stop it!” The desperation in his friend’s cracked voice nearly shattered him. Groot watched as even Gamora lowered her sword and swallowed painfully. Rocket sighed, 

“I am Groot!” The strange rods stuck in him flared with white light and Groot felt himself fall, crashing to the hard ground. This weapon, it ate at him. He tried once more to grow his vines, to extend himself, to grow more thorns but with each attempt he only met shriveled brittle wood. Rocket looked at him, eyes wide and rimmed with wetness. The horror that steamed in his best friend’s feverish red eyes as a horror Groot could only guess. 

He knew that Rocket was petrified. Terrified because he had barely escaped the first time, terrified of what they would do to him again. Terrified he would die. Terrified he wouldn’t. 

“I am Gro….Groot…” 

Rocket looked at his feet, then for a moment to Groot’s eyes. His best friend nodded. And threw down his gun. 

“I AM GROOT!” One of the figures motioned for Rocket to come forward as more guarded Peter, Gamora and Drax from a distance. Rocket came, arms above his head, eyes never leaving Groot. A metal cage was put down by one of the drones, Rocket watched it with wary eyes. 

“In,” instructed one of the men. Groot struggled as Rocket looked at him, over his shoulder and mouthed something unmistakable. 

You. Are. Groot. 

Groot’s heart clenched in his wooden chest. Rocket spat at one of the men, watched the cage open and moved forward. 

“Rocket!” Peter shouted, Gamora grabbed him by the arm. 

“They’ll hurt Groot! You saw that weapon! It kept him from regenerating. If they kill him, he won’t grow back this time!” 

Rocket hesitated before the mouth of the cage before being patted down and kicked roughly in the back, stumbling in. The latch slammed shut. Rocket let out a small whine that only Groot could hear. 

“I AM GROOOOT!” Groot reached his vines towards him as the rest of the men took off, Peter, Gamora and Drax grabbed onto his torso and around his arms. He fought and thrashed but Rocket sailed farther and farther away. Until he was out of site. Leaving the empty silence. 

“We’ll get him back!” Peter promised, releasing Groot. The large humanoid tree only stared at the sky. “We’ll get him back.” Star-Lord repeated, reassuring himself. Groot only closed his eyes, in his mind he could still see Rocket make that decision. It was not out of fear. It was out of love and Groot knew how hard it was for Rocket to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time writing entirely from Groot's POV. Constructive feedback welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

"With a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit ‘em right between the eyes.   
Hit ‘em right between the eyes, when you walk away, nothing more to say   
see the lightning in your eyes, see ‘em running for their lives" -You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

Darkness, jostling and rustling darkness. Rocket’s brain hammered against his skull. Groot being stabbed through the chest, unable to regenerate. He tried to blink, shaking the haze from his vision. Shadows. 

Groot?....Groot? And the others, where were they? Where was he? Rocket moved to get up, slowly focusing his vision when his heart dropped. Bars. His foot hit metal, his tail curled around himself unable to go straight. Panic. Confined space, unable to move. A cage. A cage. Rocket’s claws scrapped against the metal, only then did he realize he could speak. It would be alright. He could get out of this. Once he figured out where this was. 

“Long time no see 89.” Instinctively he looked through the bars, self-loathing flooding into him. He still responded to that name. He thought he would have forgotten it by now. 

“Where’s Groot?” Rocket snarled, curling his hands around the metal rods. Beyond the man who addressed him he could see the orange sky, the dreaded white sprawling buildings. He swallowed, willing his heart to stop racing and his panic to subside. The masked figure laughed, 

“We keep our word. Groot is safe. It’s the least of your worries now 89.” Rocket’s nostrils flared and he fell back as the cage was lifted upwards, towards the double doors of that building. His body trembling beneath his fur. 

“Where are we taking it?” 

“We’ll take him to neuro? Get started?” Rocket swallowed his vomit. The images coming back, bright lights. Scalpels. Agony. 

“No. They’ll want to observe it first to see how it’s…period of roaming has effected it. Put it back where its old cage was.” Rocket stared in open-jawed shock as the strange creatures…no. Not creatures, now he could identify them. Mostly Kree, some Askavarian, even a few Zandarians…and humies in their lab coats past his cage through those doors. Smells of blood and feces, of suppressed screams, of death and sweat and rot and chemicals filled his nostrils. 

“Flark you! You sons of bitches!” That was an insult he’d picked up from Quill. They laughed at him. They always laughed at him. Down the long hallway, through security, turn right, then two lefts. Through the second security check point. He growled at the scanner as it violated him with its red light, up and down his body. Rocket’s tail flicked in irritation, he’d been stripped of his clothes, bare cybernetics glittered on his collar bones in the light.  
“Subject identified,” the monotone female voice stated. “Subject 89P13.” 

“Subject my ass!” He shouted, clawing at the bars. His mind concentrated fury to distract himself from the terror. They laughed at him and took his crate farther down the hall, the doors opened up with a kkkksssshhhh sending pressurized air fill his mouth and nose, he twitched involuntarily and vomited inside the cage, falling to his hands and knees. More laughter. 

“Here you are 89, home sweet home.” A cruel hand slammed against the roof of the cage and Rocket was dropped into that all too familiar class cube. He threw himself against the sides of it, pounding against the powerful Starkasian glass.

“Up yours! I came with yah willingly but yah never mentioned anything about stayin! I got outta here once I’ll get out again yah kurtuckan bastards! I’ll blow all your heads off! You and this entire hell hole!” Words poured from him in place of tears. “I’m a Guardian of the Galaxy! I got protection now! Nova Corps will come after your sorry asses! I’ll…”

“Rocket?!” His ears pricked back, that voice. Breast pounding, he turned. In the cube pressed against his, she stared at him. Eyes large with disbelief. 

“L…lylla?” The otter rushed forward and reached her hand out, it morphed into his own cage. Something she’d re-wired on the implant on her arm. He instantly grabbed her hand. Warm and rough, the large indented flesh on her webbed palm still held the shape of the round bold they’d forced through her hand. 

“Rocket!” Lylla’s voice cracked, her eyes searched his with longing and fondness. Slowly he felt his heart race to a panic of a different sort. 

“Lylla! I thought you were dead….” He finally managed. At that her eyes grew narrow, her gently hand in his tightened with unexplainable strength and yanked him into the wall of the cage. He cursed, rubbing his head. 

“I’m very much alive, no thanks to you!” Rocket blinked, she’d grown since he escaped. More of her fur was missing and there were fresh scars across her hip. A new implant in her chest.

“Lylla, please! I…”

“YOU LEFT US!” She snarled, her hand now back by her side and curled into a tight fist. “After everything I did for you!” He nodded, that sick dark tar in his core now rising again. “Who snuck you extra food every day for months?” 

“You did,” he muttered, remembering.

“Who gave you her extra pain meds after you awoke from a really bad surgery?” 

“Bad is relative in here don’t you think…?” He tried, daring to look up. Lylla shot him down without a word. The only other person besides Groot to be able to see right through him, to shut him down without uttering a sound. 

“You did…” She nodded gruffly. 

“Who discovered the loophole in the security system? Who watched the guards movements for months? Who input the computer codes? Who concealed and stockpiles the weapons? Who…”

“YOU DID!” Rocket cried, tears pricking at his eyes. “You did Lylla, you did, the only reason I got free was because of you okay? You happy now?”

“Shut your mouth Subject 89P13!” He winced, to hear that from Lylla…they’d given each other their names. Once upon a time. She gave him the name Rocket after one of her many “lessons.” She told him rockets could break through the sky of any planet. Could propel you to freedom. Anyone who had a rocket was respected, and feared. Rockets were powerful and explosive, strong and shining. He named her Lylla, after the flowers that the scientists had put in their cages as part of an experiment involving calming stimuli. As much as he hated to admit it, it had worked. Lila flowers, though he thought they were called Lylla’s. Rocket still hadn’t acquired all language acquisition. But those flowers were the only good thing on Halfworld, the only source of comfort or kindness, the only things that were not painful. 

He watched her eyes soften replaced by sadness. “We promised each other we’d get out together or not at all….we were going to take everyone else with us…but you…you left…”

“You got caught,” he tried lamely. She smirked, folding her arms, 

“I wasn’t caught, I tripped over your tail. You were running to slow. They grabbed me and you continued to run…you ran Rocket. You shot right off. You didn’t look back.” She sighed, looking away. “You left us,” she whispered. Rocket’s stomach churned. He stared at his feet, cheeks going warm. 

“I’m sorry….I’m so sorry Lylla…” he looked at the clear glass, he held out his hand in apology. “We are going to get out. Both of us this time.” She finally met his gaze, though skeptically. 

“What’s stopping you from tucking tail and running again?” It was a fair question he considered for a moment. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “Nothing is stopping me but I won’t Lylla. I promise.” She scowled, 

“There was a time I’d believe your promises Rocket,” her voice was gentle enough to break him. “But not anymore.” He nodded, 

“….I deserve that.. But I’m still getting us out of here.” The silence held them in an uneasy peace. Finally Lylla spoke, taking his hand again. 

“…we better do it fast then. You know what they are going to do to you right?” Rocket shivered, in the midst of his panic and then his relief, then shame, he’d almost forgotten what the scientist wanted of him. 

“What?” 

“You escaped, got out. Thrived. You left Halfworld. You’re a liability, the key to their entire undoing.” Rocket laughed, 

“Well that’s a good thing…”

“They’re going to un-make you. They’re going to take away your sentience.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Out in the garden where we planted the seeds, there is a tree as old as me, branches were sewn by the color of green ground had arose and passed its knees, by the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top. I climbed the tree to see the world, when the gusts came around to blow me down, held on as tightly as you held on me”

“I am Groot!” How, how could he make them understand?

“They’ll be expecting us to turn right around and get him,” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in anxiety as he usually did, Groot could see through the reflection of the glass on the windshield of the Milano. “We have to lay low, find out information about this place. It doesn’t even show up on any of Nova’s records! Halfworld does, but it doesn’t say anything about labs!” Peter jabbed at the buttons on his consol. 

“We’ll get him as soon as we figure out how to go get him!” “He’s probably working on an escape plan right now.” Gamora offered, but Groot knew better. Not even he knew all the horrid intricacies of what had been done to Rocket. But he knew enough. Nearly fifteen jumps from where they were it would leave the scientists with plenty of time to do roots knew what to the enhanced raccoon. “I am Groot!!” 

“Your furry friend will be well,” Drax’s large warm hand rested on Groot’s shoulder and he turned. “Rocket is smart, he’ll figure a way out. And if he doesn’t he will kill whoever he must to get out.” Groot nodded, appreciatively but it made no difference. 

“….unless,” Peter began, turning to Groot. “Do you think…do you think they’d uhh…kill him?” Groot shook his head. No. They would not kill him, they’d put far too much money and resources into making him. Rocket getting killed was the least of Groot’s worries. 

“These people, these…scientists,” Gamora started to ask, hands on her hips. Nervous. “They obviously have weapons at their disposal. Do you know how stocked they are?” Groot shook his head once more. “Is there anything you know that could help us? Has Rocket told you anything about these people?” Rocket had told him plenty. 

“I am…”

“What’s the use, we’re not going to be able to understand him even if he does know!” Peter grumbled in what Groot knew was fueled by worry.   
We’ll head to Halfworld now and scope it out, “ Peter continued. “Rocket will be free by tomorrow.” Groot stood, and sat down in the co-pilot seat, plugging in the coordinates. He was used to the rest of the crew, even Rocket at times, talking about him as though he wasn’t there. He was used to being the silent muscle of the group, the gentle giant, the moral compass. He couldn’t blame them, not really. But Rocket had willingly gone back to a place Groot knew had been worse than death. Groot knew the truth. The unspoken truth that neither of them ever acknowledged but both instinctively knew as gospel. From the outside looking in Rocket was Groot’s sole connection to the worlds around him. It was Rocket who conveyed Groot’s words to everyone, Rocket who schemed and planned and kept them on their toes. From the outside looking in Groot needed Rocket to survive. But that wasn’t true. Groot had lived a long time before ever meeting Rocket. The truth was that it was Groot who kept Rocket sane, functioning and alive. He comforted Rocket from his night terrors, he dried his tears, he stopped his friend from doing anything too terrible, he watered and nurtured Rocket’s shriveled soul and sense of self. It was Rocket who needed Groot to survive. 

Despite all his torment Rocket was back there now. He willingly went back. If is raccoon friend had done that, then Groot knew what he must do in turn. Feeling the glowing spores inside his chest, Groot gathered them together, summoning strength. The wisdom of all the other Groots that had ever grown danced inside him as he recalled all those times he and Rocket had found themselves at some dive bar and Rocket had drank too much. Granted that was a lot, but only a few of those times had Rocket ever spoken of what had been done to him. Groot had figured out the rest. 

“We will get him Groot,” Gamora sat sharpening her Zobarian sword. Her eyes were ice but her smile was warm. 

“I am Groot,” he said softly. She nodded, as if she understood what he said. He smiled. Gamora, like Rocket was a flower growing in the muck, only she did not know. She sharpened the blade once more, her hands moving deftly in one sweep. Finishing, she sheathed her sword and turned to him. 

“I do not know anything about Halfworld, but I do know that I too was trapped and tortured on Thano’s planet. Even I was not strong enough to escape. But Rocket escaped. He let himself get taken away because he loves us. Most of all you, and that will get him out again.” She forced a smile, “but we’re going to help him.” She gave him a sound pat on his shoulder and he grinned despite himself. 

“I am Groot.” 

“One more jump!” Drax called. Groot hung on, wrapping a vine around Gamora’s waist and sitting her down just as the Milano took a screeching leap forward.   
As Groot righted himself and gazed out the window of the Milano, the sky was a sickly orange, the flora colossus reeled, feeling the pain. He felt the spores inside of him shiver, they threatened to go dark and die.

“Okay,” Peter said, “what’s the plan?” Groot thought, looking out over the bleak planet feeling that pain, that misery. Tentatively he gathered his courage, 

“I am Groot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, life keeps getting in the way and I struggle to write Groot's chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

“I always thought I might be bad, Now I'm sure that it's true 'cause I think you're so good And I'm nothing like you. Look at you go, I just adore you, I wish that I knew What makes you think I'm so special”- Everything Stays, Stephan Universe

“They don’t have the Quasian coding anymore,” Lylla tried to explain. “They changed it…and upgraded the monitors with thermal detection. Plus they totally rebooted and outfitted the security drones. Rocket’s ears twitched, of course they did. How could he have expected things would stay the same? 

“What about the boarders?” If he knew what they were made from he could figure a way around or under or over or through them. Lylla shook her head, lying on her side. 

“They reinforced them with Kree steele, and above they have a dome, same material these cages are made from.”

“What about Mags?” Rocket suddenly remembered, “She knows more about this place then both of us, she could…”

“Mags is dead Rocket…” Lylla whispered, wincing as she sat up and came closer to the wall of the cage. He swallowed, Mags was here before even Lylla. A strange creature with thin spindly legs and white tailed. She had been in the cage below Rocket and when he was tiny she’d figured out a way to open his cage, he’d crawl down to hers and snuggle against her side for warmth. He had only vague memories of whatever life he’d had beyond the lab but as far as he knew, Mags (as she’d already called herself) was the only mother he knew of. She’d stayed awake all night watching to make sure none of the drones came buy and caught him.

“W…what…?” Lylla nodded solemn. 

“How…?” 

“After you left…they…they needed to make sure no one else could ever escape the way you did.” Lylla recounted, hugging herself. “They ran through so many scenarios. Study after study, test after test. Finally they…they made Mags devise an escape plan just like we did.”  
Rocket’s eyes glanced over the creatures in the cages above and below him, across the isle and to either side. Checking the cameras, the flooring, the ceiling. It’d been hard enough for him and Lylla to devise something. If there was anyway Mags could’ve came up with something similar it must have been extremely good. 

“It finally came time for them to test it….they made her show them. She went through all the motions, overriding the system without the alarm,”

“We couldn’t even cut the flarking alarms!” Rocket snarled. Lylla laughed, 

“Yeah. It as amazing. She got out too…beyond the wall….and..and then they caught her. Brough her back, gathered all of us around and…”

“What?” He dared ask despite his stomach coiling. All those nights when he was scared and small…well, smaller. Mags took him in, licked his bloody fur clean. Comforted him even though he could not understand her words. 

“They….shot her with a stun…took her cybernetics out right there in the courtyard….she bled out when they left her there.” Rocket’s fists clentched, his breath catching. Because of him, Mags, the only other creature besides Lylla to ever care for him to that point in his life was dead. Yes he had freedom, and he thought he had paid the price. It never occurred to him the price that others had to pay.

“We’re going to get out of here,” he repeated. The mantra he’d repeat to himself over and over. 

“Maybe we could somehow reroute the drones, override their route scouting routes past us…if they bypass our wing that would give us enough ti…ROCKET WA…” Rocket turned, so lost in thoughts of escape he hadn’t heard them coming. He spun, lashing out at the metal clamps. Grabbing them he forced the tongs back for a moment, hissing. 

“Hold still P13!” The scientist cursed as Rocket struggled, the masked man forced the clamps upon him. In her cage Lylla snarled and rammed at the bars. Rocket felt the prick of the needle, his vision swam, his body going heavy. This…this is some new shit…

“It’s too bad really,” another voice. He felt himself lifted up, tried to move, tried to swipe his claws lazily…and this collar, he could undo it’s locking mechanism if he could just..

“Rocket!!” Lylla shouted, still scraping against her glass cage. “Don’t let them!” Her voice…it was so far away. “Remember what we’d say? They made you, don’t let them break you!” 

Don’t let them…Rocket stared, blinking slowly, noises contorted as he was carried out of the room, past the doors, Lylla’s horrified face burned against his eyes. 

“We put so much effort in to this one.”

“Well, we can still observe it after it’s been reverted.” Rocket squirmed, the hallways blended with the doors and the lights. Something gushed through him….did I just wet myself? 

“Let’s just hope it makes a full recovery.” The doors opened, that table. Those instruments. The other scientists. There must be some way out…look up, look at the ceiling…there’s got to be a…Rocket stopped, cold metal yanking around his throat. Mumbles from those blurry figures around him. Who were they? Where was he…? Why aren’t you fighting? His body screamed, the machine put him down, laying him on the table. His hands and feet clenched as the metal shackles clicked. A bright light above….lights…like Groot? Groot. Rocket’s mind temporarily emerged from its fog. They’re going to unmake you Lylla had said. Groot. Where was Groot? Gamora? Quill, Drax? 

“Well, that was easier than we expected,” someone murmured. Groot, Rocket thought. That wooden face, those vines that wiped his tears. The spores, the pink flowers. Everything the idiot tree ever did for him…so much. What made that idiot think that he, Rocket, who cursed and killed and drank and was so...so broken. What made something like Groot, a source of love and simplicity and acceptance think that Rocket was worth anything? What made him so special? Rocket never knew, he would never know. Groot…Something else pricked Rocket’s arm. Darkness encroached on his eyes, heavier than ever, they slipped shut. Groot….if he was going to lose his sentience…his last memory…his last thought was going to be of Groot. Rocket felt his mind somehow fall out his skull…the voiced stopped. Shink, clink he knew the sound of scalpels made ready…Groot...


	6. Chapter 6

You saw my pain, washed out in the rain, broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins but you saw no fault no cracks in my heart and you knelt beside my hope torn apart, but the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you. And we'll live a long life. So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light. 'Cause oh that gave me such a fright, but I will hold as long as you like just promise me we'll be alright.” –Ghosts that We Knew Mumford & Sons

 

The false air threatened to suffocate him. Groot slid his cumbersome form down the hallway. 

“I do not like this plan,” Drax smoldered. “We should destroy those who hurt our furry friend!” Groot clenched his fists. If Drax kept this up much longer someone would hear them again. 

“Shh Drax!” Gamora snapped, slinking up beside him, sword out but held so that it would not scrape against the floor. Groot continued, feeling for any vibrations with his vines outstretched, glad Gamora had said something. He’d learned quickly that if he stayed quiet, often someone else would speak up instead, for better or worse. The lights flickered once more and Groot’s vines rounded around another corner. 

“Anything?” Peter asked.

“I am Groot,” He shook his head. His throat constricted once more with the sterile air, fogging his ability to perceive the drones, or guards or the security doors. Something…coming…down the…

“Ahh!” Quill screamed and Groot jolted as the plasma beam shot past his right shoulder, striking a guardswoman who had turned around the corner. Her gun lay beside her, 

“I am Groot!” He darted out several vines as Drax walked briskly past and crouched down, picking up her gun and cocking it. “I am Groot!” He whipped his vine, striking upward and knocking the gun from the Destroyer’s hold. “I am Groot!!” Drax’s eyes narrowed, mucles tensed, but he’d already explained to them-after many tiresome repetitions and gesturing and emphasis with body language that it would be better to sneak in and get Rocket, rather than barging in guns blazing. They’d be far out armed and outnumbered. While his best friend preferred the later approach, Groot was sure that was not the way to do things. 

“Dumb Tree! How are we supposed to…?!” There was no time to answer as red light flooded the previously white hall, a blast of noise penetrated Groot’s ears exploded with sound. Eyes squeezed shut as he heard Gamora give a grunt and the familiar slice of metal through living matter. Rocket….Groot felt as Drax shouted something in his face he could not discern, a strong toned arm looping around his torso and yanking him around the corner and down the hall. Rocket….Groot reached out, closing his eyes. He could feel him….the pounding heart, adrenaline surging through his tiny form. 

“Groot get down!” Blindly Groot let loose his vines, studded with thorns, knocking out four drones as bullets tore through his bark. Rocket….the World Pod in Groot’s own chest churned, feeling that life source so fueled with terror. 

“I AM GROOT!” Groot roared, summoning that feeling through his vines, rushing towards that energy of his friend, crashing through another set of heavy doors, he growled as his bark split against the heavy metal doors. 

“Groot! Groot slow down!” Quill shouted and cursed as a guard shoved him down, punched him, Groot winced hearing the break of bone but Rocket….the force within Groot moved him forward, past the searing pain of his chest. Gamora’s sword downed a drone as it soared over Groot’s head, guns rifling off. Glass shattered as they crashed through another room. Strange smells of sulfur stung his nose. Rocket…terror…lights…air without oxygen. Groot’s legs strode, kicking down anything that stood in his way. Rocket…Rocket…Ro… he halted in the cross section of a hallway, the red alarm firing off. Panic, the Flora colossus swallowed trying to ease down the panic. 

“I am Groot!” He shouted, charging into another several guards people vines reaching out desperately for any emotion that could be felt coming from Rocket. Nothing. Groot huffed for breath, the white and red of the hallway lights dimming, he felt himself slide forward, the tears in his bark stung. 

“Groot! This way!” He followed Gamora, feeling her heart hammer urgently and sucked a large breath, hoping for air. 

“There’s a lock on this one too!” Peter cried, fumbling with the data pad. “Operation…this has to be it but…” Groot didn’t hear the rest,   
“I AM GROOT!” One thing kept him from collapsing in burning agony, shattering through the doors with every fiber of his being, sending his arms shooting outward through the metal. Groot rammed through, eyes searching for that brown grey fur. Behind him Gamora, Peter and Drax easily entered through the hole the tree man created.

“Let him go or we’ll…” they halted. Red smattered the walls, contraptions Groot had no name for sparked and fizzled. Groot searched, stumbling and glanced down, the body beneath him hissed and Groot stumbled backward, the body didn’t hiss at him…Rocket did. Groot stared down, the raccoonoid snarled, strange white foam dripping from his mouth. 

“Rocket!” Peter panted, “C’mon we gotta go!” Rocket snarled, tearing at the fleshy red shoulder of the fallen scientist. “Rocket?!” Groot’s heart dropped, he reached out, a long vine snaking forward…if he could just reach out to the raccoonoid…he could calm him. He could always calm Rocket, or anyone else. That had always been his purpose in this dark, dank universe, he’d sworn to himself the day Planet X and his people were destroyed that he would always stand as a beacon of love…granted it was hard but he did his best. 

“I am Groot,” Groot whispered, meeting his best friend’s strangely distant black eyes. The vine moved close going to touch Rocket’s claws. “I am…” small but sharp fangs bit down, cracking his vines as Rocket’s ears pinned back against his skull and the creature scrambled off his kill, through the wrecked maylay of the operating room and out the crushed doors. “I…I am Groot….?”

“I don’t know…” Peter breathed, “but we’re going to find out.” Groot didn’t need to find out…he knew and it shattered him. He was too late, Rocket as he knew him was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

“Breathe in the light I'll stay here in the shadow, oh waiting for a sign, as the tide grows, Higher and higher and higher and when the nights are long all those stars recall, your goodbye, your goodbye. And in the night, you'll hear me calling, you'll hear me calling -----Oblivion, M83

“Alert, alert, alert,” white, red, flash, flash. The raccoon runs, claws skittering down the halls. Blood, burning, broken glass, slice, cut on paw, keep running. 

“Rocket!” Hears words he does not understand. Hands, grabbing, blasts. “Alert, alert, alert.” The narrow hall goes red, then white. Avoid the grabbing hands, dart away from the blast of the gun. “Rocket, wait!” Rocket, what is that? 

“What are we supposed to do with him?!” 

“I am Groot!” Groot. That word is familiar, where has he heard it? Another blast, the raccoon lashes out biting at the hand that grabs him. He tastes blood, he spins, claws going for a metal drone. It fires, burning. Fur smoldering. Get away!

“Rocket is gone.” A deep voice echos. “We should not eat him, but we could stuff him.”

“DRAX!” Another voice, similar but not as deep.

“I AM GROOT!” A thin green vine lashes out, it strikes the drone down. The raccoon falls to the hard floor, avoiding another round of blasts. Paws bleed. Get out!

“What? He wouldn’t want us to keep him as a pet!” The deep voice defends itself. The raccoon runs, through the doors, down another hall. 

“Alert, alert, alert.” Smells, burning, acidic. He runs, limbs going numb, run, run, run. The vines chase him. The blasts echo, rattling his skull. Get out! He rushes through at the glass, clawing at it until it shatters. Pain. More blood. His. Get out.

“Rocket!!!” A more high-pitched voice. Something furry. Paws grabbing him. “Rocket…” Another raccoon? No. But…something similar? More blasts, the creature holding him looks up. 

“Wait don’t!” The raccoon watches the man in the red coat stop the deep voiced man. They stop.

“I am Groot?” Groot….the word stirs something in his mind but he doesn’t know what. 

“So you’re Groot,” The animal holding him says. 

“How do you know Groot?” Asks the human man. 

“….Rocket…he was crying for you….he’s been calling your name in his nightmares ever since he came here.” The raccoon looks between the female animal holding him down and the group of strangers. 

“Wait…” a green female asks, “who are you?”

“Lylla,” the animal holding him responds. 

“Lylla! Are you Rocket’s girlfriend?” Asks the deep voiced man. More shots, more blasts. The human man and green female fight them off. 

“Girlfriend?” Lylla, the one holding him asks. 

“Are you…what do animals do? Are you mates?” 

“Drax we can discuss Rocket’s love life later!” The raccoon struggles. Sulfur, sterile. Get out! Run!” Lylla looks at him, adjusts her hold on him even as he panics, flashes of white and red.  
“No!” She sounds digusted, “what happened to him? Rocket?” She looks down at him, he smells the tang of fear and dred. “Rocket?!....Oh…no…no, no no…”

“I am Groot?”

“They must’ve taken out his neural implants…..where did you find him?”

“I am Groot!” Lylla looks confused, the raccoon sniffs, frustration. 

“In an…an operating room I think,” the human man spoke. There was fear on him as he lifted the strange thing and shot more loud noises towards the drones. Lylla’s eyes frantically searched the raccoon, small paws prodded his body. 

“Which one?”

“Which what?”

“Which operating room?”

“I don’t know!” the sting of uncertainty wafted from all of them. 

“Groot, take him. Follow me.” The vines reach out. Fear…no…not fear…some other smell. The raccoon sniffs. Safety? Groot….it echoes from within him. Vines wrap around the raccoons fur, he is lifted off the floor. He clings to the tree as it moves down the hall, the sound of slashing and grunting and crying from all around. Blood, fluids, chemicals, the raccoon clings to the tree because it is safe.

“I am Groot,” it whispers, a vine rhythmically strokes the raccoon’s fur. The raccoon looks up, the tree’s eyes….large, open, glowing…within the knots of bark there is a yellow glowing. Glowing stirs in the raccoon himself. It will be alright? The raccoon’s claws are tight on the tree as they run, doding the strange people. The smell of earth, of calm. Red lights replaced by the glowing spores. The raccoon shivers. 

“Hang in there Rocket!” Lylla’s voice sounds. He smells terror from her. Terror and sorrow. 

“So we get his implants back in and he’s back to normal?” The green female asks, running her sword through another creature it groans, lashes out at her but she misses. 

“Not necessarily,” Lylla runs on all fours, diving under a drone and hitting it with her claws. It sparks, she bites at it. A burning smell, she yelps but continues to beat the drone as it dies. “Those implants are extremely complex, every wire must be exactly connected…and if they meddled with the cybernetics at all like they did with the others then…there’s nothing we can do.”

“I am Groot,” the tree says. The raccoon does not understand. He holds on. Assurance, warmth, safety. Stay here.


	8. Chapter 8

“Life finds a way.”-Micheal Criton

Groot ran, pushing the pains back to the recesses of his mind. The flashing lights, the stench of spilled chemicals unknown and screams of the strange people in the masks. The whirr of the drones, his bark split and cracked with each bullet. Beside him Gamora grunted on the upswing of her sword, striking a lab coated alien up the chest. He dodged as Drax wrestled with another one, crashing to the ground. 

“This way!” Lylla cried, sliding under a fallen gurney. Groot’s eyes struggled to follow in the ever-changing lights. 

“I am Groot,” he told Rocket. Rocket who was still Rocket. He had to be…but those eyes, when he bit Groot…those eyes were black, soulless. Groot shivered and held him tighter with determination. They turned the corner, Quill exchanged rounds with ten armored aliens, each armed in turn. 

“Give us the rodent!” A female voice shouted, lunging forward. Groot struck out a vine and hit her in the side. Wincing, as she hit the floor. It was a crime to harm another living being according to the wisdom of the Groots. But since befriending Rocket, nay even before that, Groot had more or less come to terms with straying from the rulebook of his people. Lylla scurried down the corridor, halting at the broken smashed doors of the experimentation lab where they had first found Rocket. 

“In here,” she beckoned, turning and leaping on the face of another scientists. Groot watched her bury her small claws into his face and cringed, vines caressing Rocket’s fur out of his own anxiety as the man screamed and tried to pry Lylla off.

“Groot!” Quill cried, gesturing to where the human was tugging at Lylla, beating his fists into her back as she remained latched to him. Groot’s feet were planted as firmly as they could be in the ground that was not soil. “Groot!” In his arms Rocket stirred, eyes large with fear, legs kicking. Drax rushed past, clobbering the man whom Lylla was scratching and together the Destroyer and Otter subdued him.

“You are a good fighter for such a small creature. I did not expect you to be so good in combat.” Lylla smiled despite her bruises as she ushered them into the room. 

“It’s what I was born to do.” Rocket frantically clawed at Groot’s branches. 

“I am Groot!” Groot tried to calm him, the raccoon did not heed. Instead Groot sprung vines involuntarily as Rocket hissed and snarled, mouth foaming. He jumped before the Flora colossus could catch him and clung to the white round light’s above. 

“What do we do?” Quill shouted, trying to shut the door against the blasts of the drones.

“Hold him down!” Lylla demanded, Rocket snarled, ears pinned back against his head. 

“Damnit,” Gamora cursed, throwing her own weight against the door beside Quill. The blasts echoed with shouts from the humans. Groot turned watching in eye bulging fear as the two furry animals scratched at each other. The otter winced as the raccoon scratched across her chest, drawing a line of red. She rolled, grabbing for a needle and twisted, jamming it into Rocket’s shoulder.

“I am Groot!” Groot ran over to Rocket who bared his teeth and stumbled, clattering to the metal table.

“I had to!” Lylla panted. Even sedated, Groot watched the uneven breathing of his best friends scratched up side. Groot watched in panic as the otter strapped Rocket down. “Hand me that knife,” Groot’s large eyes flashed to the long thin object lying on the floor. Red splashed across it. 

“I am Groot?” 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Lylla admitted, “but if we’re going to even have a chance at getting him back I need you to trust me.” 

“Groot you better…” Quill poked his gun through the slit in the door and fired. “go quickly!” The Flora colossus gazed at the otter, reaching out and slowly touched a hand to her chest. She watched, breathing heavy and fast as if anticipating an attack. Groot looked in to her, seeing her pain…more similar to Rocket’s then even his own. Groot’s gaze wavered only when Rocket jolted on the table, his heart wrenching in two at his friend’s muffled hiss of pain. 

“Quickly!” Lylla pleaded. Groot took a breath, gripping the knife and handing it to her. He hoped beyond all hope that he was doing the right thing. That Rocket could forgive him. Lylla took it from Groot and he turned away as she positioned it at the base of Rocket’s skull.

“There is too many of them!” Drax shouted as another blast poked a hole through the already banged up doors. All Groots perceived and experienced time differently than most mammalien based creatures; for him, Lylla’s deft work took an eternity. But after the initial cut, he turned back to watch. He needed to bear witness to that which pained his best friend the most. The cables, panels, gears and gadgets that made up the inside of Rocket’s body caused his soulmate agony, physically, mentally, emotionally every second of his existence and if Rocket could carry that pain with him then Groot knew the least he could do was see him through. Lylla connected wires, cut and examined, re-cut. All the while playing metal with muscle, pinning organic tissue to metal. 

“Ahh!” Groot whirled around, Gamora held her side, still trying desperately to keep the door closed. 

“You alright?” Quill shouted. The assassin grunted and pushed her back against the doors, sending the metal screeching.  
“Just…one…last connection…” Lylla meticulously fused the last two wires in Rocket’s back implant together and stitched him closed, skull and all. 

“I am Groot?”

“If what you asked was ‘did it work’ then I’m not sure…” Groot felt his heart sink. There wasn’t time for ambiguity. “I followed all the correct steps from watching it….” She mused. “But…there was always that one factor the scientists could never replicate…a spark was needed. Not a mechanical spark, something unexplainable.” She pondered, “actual free will…the could create soliders and weapons that obeyed, sure. But Rocket and I…the others like us, we were created but the sentience itself was something they were never able to forge. It just happened. They called it the spark of life. They were trying to replicate it…but it only ever occurred randomly. For every creature like me and Rocket here, hundreds of others were killed or defected because the scientists couldn’t make them truly, truly, alive.” She turned to Groot. 

“A soul. A soul can’t be made in a lab…I’ve put him back together but without his real sentience he’ll…. he’ll just be a monster.” 

“I told you!” Drax shouted over the alarms, “we should honor his memory by roasting him over a great fire in a ceremonial feast!” 

“We are not…” Quill fired through the doors again, narrowly missing a blast from one of the scientists on the other side, “eating Rocket!”

“What is the alternative?” The destroyer thrust his fist through the opening in the door and Groot recognized the familiar grunt and fall of the victim. “He would not want us to keep him as a pet!” As much as Groot was disgusted by the idea, he had to admit Drax had a point. The last thing Rocket would want would be to be kept as a pet. But what if….Groot looked down at his own chest. The spores. The lessons of his people vibrated through his vines, even here so far away from everything that was good and green. He gently reached out, placing his hand on Rocket’s chest, closing his eyes. 

“What are you…?” Lylla watched in amazement as a glowing yellow light shown from under Groot’s palm. He consentraited. The power of the Groots was the power of life and growth. Back on Planet X it was told that they were sentinels of all natural things of the forest. Wood gods. In his youth, Groot had healed a squirrel that had succumb to a strange sickness, but bringing Rocket’s soul back….? He could only hope. Something hot flashed across the flora colossus’s bark. He winced, but remained fixed on Rocket. 

“Groot hurry!” Gamora shouted. The alarms sounded off, red and white flashes. Groot closed his eyes. Feeling down, beneath the metal flooring, under the concrete until at last his roots felt earth. The energy ran upward, from the earth to his roots, through his heart. 

“Groot!” Quill called, his dry voice cracking. “It’s now or never we need to GO!” With a final effort, Lylla watched the glowing yellow light grow larger and larger until it illuminated the strange tree creature and the raccoon. She waited, holding her breath. 

“I am Groot!!!” Groot roared, the light raged, he grabbed Rocket. Lylla, Drax, Gamora and Quill braced themselves, only letting go of the doors and their weapons to shield themselves from the blinding light. It faded slowly and Groot did not even notice the fresh breeze of cool air. He did not hear the crinkling of debris or hear the absence of gunshots. He only looked at Rocket, revealing him from his protectively hold. His friend’s nose twitched. 

“I am Groot…?” If he had a stomach it would be rolling in anxiety. Did it work? Could he try again? Exhaustion dripped from every vine. He reached a singe finger out, touching Rocket’s face gingerly. In amazement, Groot watched his friend’s eyes open a sliver, those familiar red orbs clouded but there. Rocket sniffed again, tail flipping. 

“W…what…t..the flark….?”

“I am Groot!” Relief washed over him as he hugged his friend close. Rocket went stiff at first, but as the flora colossus spent his last effort growing a sprig of pink flowers, the raccoonoid gave in. 

“Those kurtuckan scientists…” Rocket muttered, “I fought them…scratch their eyes out but…they strapped me down and….”

“I am Groot,” Groot pat him on the back and Rocket stepped back, eyes wondering.

“Woah…” the Flora colossus followed his gaze, gasped as he looked over the ruined lab. Around them rubble strewn as far as they could see. The Milano, and the trees and vegetation of the outside world shown on the horizon 

“Rocket!” Gamora and the rest of the gang rushed over. 

“We thought we lost you!” Quill said, sheathing his gun. 

“Indeed! You were truly an animal,” Drax put in, beaming. “I wanted to give you the great honor of roasting you but they would not let me. I am glad that you are once again your true self.”

“Gee, thanks.” Rocket smirked. 

“Your girl friend helped us a great deal.” Drax gestured to Lylla. 

“What girl friend? I don’t have a…” Groot watched Rocket behold the otter creature. She herself looked as shocked as any of them. 

“Lylla!” Rocket gaped, trying to think of what to say. Groot watched him settle for his usual brash: “…told you we’d escape together this time.” She rolled her eyes but grinned and without warning Rocket hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry….but we’re…we’re free now. This time for good.” She allowed his embrace for a moment more before letting go.

“Should we uhh…go?” Peter suggested. “Before there are any other damn drones or mad scientists or anything else weird and freaky comes to get us?”

Groot nodded. 

“Lylla,” Rocket smiled, “come with us!” 

“I am Groot!” Groot agreed, from what he’d seen of the little otter, she was extremely capable, tenacious and even kind. 

“A…are you sure?” Lylla wondered, looking between them all. Groot watched Quill nod. 

“If your half the genius Rocket is, we’d be glad to have you.” Rocket chuckled, 

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Lylla joked. Groot laughed, and his grin widened as Rocket scurried up to his shoulders as they made their way to the ship, Peter and Gamora already hitting it off with Lylla. 

“I am Groot?” Groot asked before they followed the others on to the ship. 

“Yeah I’m alright,” Rocket sighed. “Thanks to you big guy. Don’t know what you did but I feel better than I have in a while. Groot grew a single pink flower from his palm, handing it to his friend. Rocket took it, for once. 

“Thanks bud.” 

“I am Groot.”


End file.
